Mended Hearts
by Hihintayin Kita
Summary: Andy suffers a heart attack and undergoes surgery. Friends don't let friends suffer through the aftermath alone, so Provenza and Sharon (yes, even Rusty) let him know that they're there for him, every step of the way.


**A/N**: How about some more touching, heartfelt scenes with everybody's favorite trio? I may go back and tweak this a bit, but for now I'm feeling pretty good about this one. Enjoy!

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He laid in bed, staring at the bleak ceiling. He should be asleep, and he was usually good at getting rest after the surgery, but for some reason tonight he felt contemplative.

Andy propped himself up in bed, his lower back and the incision on his chest protesting against the movement. He reached for the heart shaped pillow that was given to him after his surgery. Mended Hearts. In a way it was like AA, but for finding support for heart patients. He held onto it to take his mind off the dull pain he felt in his chest from time to time...and to remind him that he was damn lucky he wasn't worse off.

It was still late at night, the moonlight seeping in through the window providing the tiniest bit of light. Andy tried to think back to when everything started; when the first domino tipped over thus starting this domino effect. If he had to be honest with himself, he didn't remember much when he had the heart attack weeks ago. Only dizziness, nausea, and Tao trying to get aspirin down his throat.

The next thing he knew he was laying in some unit in the hospital with some ungodly equipment running from his thigh to the foot of the bed. He couldn't get up, but he saw that Captain Raydor and Provenza were still by his side.

Then the news they delivered to him hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Andy, the Doc tells me you're going to need surgery. A double bypass," Provenza told him.

Everything was a blur in his mind by then. He signed off on the papers, transferred over to another unit, and then went under for his surgery. It wasn't until right before his surgery that he realized that he didn't have anyone to look after him. His ex-wife and kids were long gone somewhere on the other side of the country; and he figured they wouldn't want to help out anyways. Yet after all was said and done, when he woke up the next morning he found Provenza sitting by his bed.

"You're damn lucky you didn't die, Flynn," he said, folding up his crossword puzzle, "all the waiting I did, not to mention the whole team too, would have gone to waste. And before you start, the Captain and I will be here for you, so don't you worry." And that was end of that thought.

A few hours later, after Provenza had left, Sharon appeared in the doorway. She had brought Rusty with her, instructing him to wash his hands first before getting closer to Andy. She did the same and then they both walked over to his bed.

"Hey, Lieutenant," Rusty greeted him, "Glad you're alright."

"Yes, Lieutenant, we're so very lucky that you're okay." Sharon piped in also. She laid a comforting hand on his arm, letting him know that she was genuinely relieved.

"Thanks, you two," his voice sounded so raspy. That was to be expected after having the breathing tube in for so long only to have it removed earlier.

Sharon tilted her head to the side with this worried look on her face. She spotted the ice bucket and small pitcher of water on top of his bedside table. "Do you want some water or ice?"

"Yes, some ice please," he whispered as she ever-so-gently raised the bed slightly, "thank you, Captain."

The nurse came into the room shortly thereafter to remind him that his physical therapy started in a few minutes, so Sharon told Rusty to wait for her in the waiting room. He acquiesced and relayed to Andy again how glad he was to see he was okay.

"I'll stay to help you out," Sharon said.

"Nah, you don't have to that," Andy replied.

"Did you not listen to Lieutenant Provenza earlier? We - are - helping. No buts. No fuss."

He wasn't about to argue with his boss. "Yes ma'am."

When the physical therapist arrived, Sharon helped to lower his bed and pulled his bed sheets to the foot of the bed. He was grateful she was the one to lend an arm when he tried to get up. His upper body felt weak and his legs were worse off, especially with the his left leg out of commission because of the balloon pump. Despite being able to stand and given the aid of the walker, Sharon never wavered in her support as he attempted to walk a few steps down the hall. The therapist walked by their side with the wheelchair at the ready, offering words of encouragement along with Sharon's. He felt like Hell and he bet he looked it too - nothing but the raggedy hospital gown and mussed hair. But he wanted to keep going, to get better. He would be damned if he wasn't going to give his recovery his all.

"God damn, that was...painful," he gritted through his teeth as the nurse helped him back onto his bed.

"But you're going to make good progress, Andy. I know it."

This continued on for several days, even when Andy was transferred to an overflow unit. Provenza stopped in before he went into work and Sharon would pop in on her way home. Provenza would help the nurse assist him out of bed so he could use the bathroom or walk around the unit. Sharon was there to make sure he did his breathing exercises and took his pain medication half an hour before sleeping. This continued until he was finally discharged at the end of the week.

Provenza stopped by his house to pack some clothes for him to change into. He and Sharon made a deal: if he went to his house to get his clothes and pick up food, she had to cook dinner for when he came home.

"Oh come on, Captain," he griped to her in the murder room, "look I'll even keep him entertained with a Dodgers game. Just keep me away from the kitchen, I'm a _mess_!"

"Oh so is that one of the reasons why you're divorced from your wives?" Sharon joked before returning to her office. The two of them were getting used to teasing and bickering each other.

Sharon, Rusty, and Provenza were there to pick Andy up from the hospital. The transporter wheeled Andy down to the front of the hospital where the valet area was. Provenza had moved the passenger seat to a comfortable position for Andy beforehand. Once they were ready to go, Andy grabbed his Mended Hearts pillow and clutched it above his scar. He didn't let go of it until they made it to his place.

For the first time in a while, Andy was able to relax somewhat. He didn't have to worry about tubes and IVs all over his arm and nose, the crappy hospital gown, all of that stuff. He was just happy to be in his environment, his home. And with good company. He was guided over to his couch where Provenza switched it over to a Dodgers game while Sharon and Rusty set about dinner in his kitchen. During a commercial break, Provenza got up from his seat so he could help set the table. Andy was left alone with his thoughts, not really paying attention to what was on the TV anymore. He stared at a picture on his bookshelf - a photo of him and his mother back when he was kid. It made him wonder if he was ever going to feel the same way again, live life normally again. He was sure this was like getting injured on the job. While the physical injuries heal over time, he wondered if the emotional repercussions would as well.

"You okay, Flynn?" Provenza asked when he came back to the couch.

"Yeah, yeah," he turned his attention back to the game, "I'm good."

"Thank you so much for this," Andy said as he sat down at the table, "I...I don't know what I would've done without your help."

"Oh shut up, Flynn," Provenza groaned as he took a spoonful of vegetables to his plate, "Friends don't leave friends out to dry, especially after something big like this."

"He's right, Andy. There was no way we'd not help you." Sharon smiled at him as she put a fish filet onto his plate.

"To recovery! Because damn it you need to come back to work - I'm getting bored way too easily," Provenza raised his glass of water.

"To recovery!" The other three raised their glasses as well, and for the first time since he was admitted into the hospital, Andy had a genuine smile on his face.

Andy was sitting upright in his bed now. A major achievement in his head, he was able to prop himself into a sitting position with the help of a cane. He squinted to read the time on his bedside clock: 3:05 a.m. It was an ungodly hour. As much as he needed to talk to someone, to assure him he wasn't going crazy or drowning in his own thoughts, he knew that both Sharon and Provenza would be pissed if he called at this hour.

"Pfft, yeah, my calls can wait," he muttered to himself.

The nightstand was covered with pill containers. Sharon made sure that the pain medication was closest to him and the other medications were positioned by the lamp so that he wouldn't get confused. She also left a glass of water by his bedside for those few days after the homecoming. He reached for the Percocet container and swallowed his medication.

He slowly made his way over to the bathroom. He winced as he turned the lights on. Setting the cane by the door, he undid the buttons on his pajama shirt one by one. He pushed the halves of his shirt out of the way and pulled out a Povidone-Iodine swab stick from his medicine cabinet. Before he applied the Povidone onto his surgical scar, he took a moment to really look at it.

The organ that helped to keep him alive had betrayed him. He could have died. He was in the clear now, but he could have been alone and wallowing in his self-pity. He could've just said, "to Hell with it," and thrown all of his medications and post-surgery guides away.

He didn't, though. He was alive and he was trudging through recovery pretty well with the help of the team. His friends. Especially from Sharon and Provenza and even Rusty.

So this is what it means to be lucky in life, he thought.

A minute later he applied the Povidone onto the scar, washed his hands, and headed back to his bed. He hoped to catch a few hours of sleep, wanting to feel rested to enjoy the team's company when they stop by later.


End file.
